


Gaslight

by Pixie (magnetgirl)



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Starfleet Academy, Teen Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetgirl/pseuds/Pixie
Summary: BlackQat requested Katrina Cornwell and Gabriel Lorca +Smooch7: to shut them up.





	Gaslight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackQat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackQat/gifts).



> This fic is further inspired by the bottom right gif in [this _Evangelion_ set](http://pixiedane.tumblr.com/post/169959375458/quantum-asuka-ryoji-kaji-misato-katsuragi) and [this ~~perfect~~ exchange](http://henycavil.tumblr.com/post/159792102594/maybe-its-not-blood-bonds-that-make-us-a-family) in _Gossip Girl_.

She's babbling. It's cute, the way her cheeks flush and her words run together when she's really worked up. But today she's babbling about her boyfriend, again, which wouldn't be as cute in any case, and in this case he's accused her, again, of being incapable of expressing her love which she takes as being incapable of love at all. It is at least the fourth time it's happened in as many weeks and Gabriel is tired of it. 

He's not tired of Katrina, or her babbling. He likes being the one she opens up to, even if it is about the jerk she's dating. He's entirely tired of the jerk she's dating. And how he's preying on her insecurities. Kat's the smartest person he knows. She leads their class, displays confidence in command, has a knack for putting strangers, even aliens, at ease, and is well practiced in talking her friends off whatever ledge they find themselves on. But she has a weakness for jerks who make her feel special and then make her feel awful. 

Gabriel is not the people person Katrina is. He's charming but comparatively insular. Not anyone's first choice as a shoulder to cry on. Anything he knows about interpersonal relationships beyond the superficial he learned from her! But because Gabriel's the only one the jerk hasn't chased away by being such a jerk, he's all she's got. 

He likes feeling needed, so much it scares him. He doesn't want to have anything in common with the jerks. It's why he's done nothing but listen so far. He's _ wanted _ to punch the jerk in the face. And honestly, he's wanted to shout, even shake, some sense into her. But that would be abusive. And not only is more abuse, from her friend, the last thing she needs -- he could lose her. 

But he has to do something. She's wound tighter than a warp coil and as likely to explode under pressure. He tries to interrupt her chatter but she's increasingly agitated and doesn't seem to hear him. Finally he grabs her shoulders and pulls her close, pressing her lips with his. She shudders, then relaxes, hungry for a release of tension, and a chance to slow down and let someone else hold her up. But then her brain kicks in, her eyes go wide and she pushes him away, arms up between them, expression a mixture of astonishment and apprehension. 

"What the hell, Gabriel?"

He realizes, belatedly, a forced kiss is also abusive, but, well, he has her attention. 

"Anyone who knows you," he asserts, "knows how passionate you are."

Kat frowns. "That's not better." She shakes her head, drops her arms. "That means someone I've been dating for almost a year, someone I'm supposed to love and …"  Another shake. "… build a life with … _isn't_ someone who ‘knows’ me?" 

She curls her arms around her body, closes in on herself.  He didn't think it was that serious, but maybe he wasn't paying enough attention. Maybe he didn't want to see it, acknowledge it.  

"Do you? Love him?"

She makes a face, looks up, eyes flashing with annoyance, to answer  _ of course I do _  but it gets caught in her throat. She holds his gaze an agonized moment and starts to crumble under the weight of her truth. He reads the fear in her trapped expression. That the jerk is right, she doesn't love him the way she's  _ supposed to _ , the way he loves her. 

"What's wrong with me?"

"Why don't you assume there's something wrong with  _ him _ ?"

Tears fill her eyes. "Because every relationship I've ever had ended this way. I'm not affectionate enough, I'm not invested enough, I don't appreciate them the way they do me." Her expression morphs from despair to anger and back as she lists the complaints. "I don't give them …" She shrugs, somewhat violently, and then crumbles again, shaking with too many conflicting emotions. "He _loves_ me and I … I'm not … I don't..."

Gabriel is filled with a seething anger. If the jerk were here he really would punch him. And he'd enjoy it. But he pushes the notion, and the outrage, away. It won't help her. He replaces his hands on her shoulders.

"Kat, look at me." Her eyes flicker up to his. "Someone who loves you wouldn't make you feel this way."

"He's not responsible for my feelings," she argues.

"And you're not responsible for his!"

It's an outburst, fed by his pent up emotions - annoyance, concern, desperation to  _ do something _ \- and sounds harsh to his ears. She does flinch. But then she laughs and the tension fades. 

"Yeah," she answers with obvious chagrin, but finally calm. "I'm not." She gives him the ghost of a smile. "Thanks."

Normally, he'd shrug and say 'anytime'. But there's something different in the space between them. He tightens his arms around her, presses his lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes against his chest, breathes in his smell. He holds her as long as she needs.


End file.
